


A Magical Place

by TheDoctorOfGallifrey



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Melinda May, BAMF Phil Coulson, Clint Has a Crush, Clint Needs a Hug, Getting Together, M/M, Phil can't handle feelings, Team Dynamics, and a lot of issues to deal with
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:46:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9658040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDoctorOfGallifrey/pseuds/TheDoctorOfGallifrey
Summary: It used to be easier, a story heard too many times to still be interesting: an agent who fell for their handler. Phil was okay with that, he knew how to treat Clint without getting his hopes up and without hurting him. But the battle of New York changed everything and now Phil's file says deceased...





	1. This is the end

Okay, here’s the thing most people seem to like to forget about Coulson: He’s actually a spy. And a damn good one. It’s his job to read people like books, and to always notice every detail, no matter how unimportant they may seem at the beginning. It probably doesn’t sound nice but it’s his job to find out other people's weaknesses, their weak spot. That’s why he never understood how everybody always assumed he didn’t know.

Coulson always knew. 

And seriously - how couldn’t he? He maybe even knew it before Clint knew. He was very aware of the first time Clint’s eyes followed the movement of his throat as he swallowed, or how he more often than not stared at his lips rather than his eyes when he was talking.  
At the beginning, it had actually startled him how unsubtle Clint was, especially because he was relatively sure Clint actually tried to keep his little crush a secret. More than once he thought „I taught you better than this, agent“. 

So Coulson wasn’t quite sure if he was supposed to be insulted by the fact that even the people who should have known him kept thinking he didn't have a clue.

But everyone who cared enough to look closer just gave him pitying glances that seemed to say if he just knew Clint feels the same way. They were obviously thinking Clint and Coulson were just dancing around each other, both too lost in their own mind to notice the other ones interest. Sometimes, when these people were close enough to Coulson, they would even make a comment about it, try to give him a clue. 

Maria once let something slip, and Natasha as well. One day after a particularly stressful mission with Clint even Fury talked about how good Clint and Coulson were together, his one eye looking meaningful at Coulson.  
 So long story short, Coulson always knew but decided he wouldn’t do anything about it. And it wasn’t because he didn't return the interest, or because he didn't feel the need to relieve tension once in a while. 

And most certainly not because he wanted to torture Clint. He knew that it wasn't fair towards him, and he hated himself every time Clint casually tried to ask him out for dinner and he answered with his best, oblivious „sure Clint, wanna order something?“. It killed him to see how the spark of hope vanished in his friends eyes and was every time replaced by a schooled, expressionless mask.

No, the actual reason was way more intimidate, and even if he’d never say it in front of anybody, it was even more emotional than just giving in.   
It was because they were friends. And if there was one thing Coulson wouldn't change for the world, then it was that. Some people might have called it cowardice, but that really wasn't the reason. He was sure they could make it work, somehow. He had calculated their chance of a successful relationship and had made sure not to forget one variable. And believe it or not, they had a 98.7% chance of staying together until death did them part, which is pretty good for two, mentally fucked up agents of SHIELD.   
But that wasn’t enough. The 1.3% chance that they wouldn’t make it, was reason enough for Coulson to not even try.

They were friends, and that was more than enough. More than anybody would have ever expected as they assigned Coulson as Hawkeye’s handler. He was the guy in the tailor made suit and the always impeccable mission reports and, well… everybody knew Clint’s reputation.

Coulson had been pretty sure he would never regret it, usually he knew himself well enough to know what he could take and what not, usually he didn’t take the risk of regretting something in the end. That was the whole reason of why they weren't together. Because Coulson did NOT take chances. Not with Clint.

But then Loki happened, and in the very last seconds of his life, the very last seconds he was still able to think clearly, he felt regret. And after he lost his ability to form a coherent thought, he only had the image of himself telling Clint that his last seconds were dedicated to their non-existent relationship. 

He felt utterly helpless, with the only emotions left in him being regret. Regret and a certain ache, the ache of never having known what Clint looked like in the morning (without the bruises and cuts he always had after a mission). Or what Clint tasted like after a normal day at SHIELD HQ. 

Coulson always somehow imagined he would taste like coffee.

That was probably stupid, but Coulson always had a thing for coffee. Coffee and Clint. And he could have had both if he hadn't been so damn ignorant. He thought of a beautiful house they could have lived in, and the mornings they would have spend together. And the more blood he had lost, the more the whole image had started to glow. A soft, warm glow.   Like a beautiful dream that allowed you to slowly melt into it and become a part of it. It might have been heaven. It might have been not. Because heaven would have been forever, heaven was a promise. A promise to never let you go. A promise that your were done with the problems of the mortal world, that you had done your duty and were allowed to enjoy your retirement without a bad conscience.

But this wasn't forever. He was ripped out of his dream world and brought back to reality, in the worst way he could have imagined. The cold machines and the knowledge of what was happening to him, accomplished something not even the worst villain Coulson had met had managed. 

They made him beg for death. But after he was fully back and aware of what was around him, of what happened and what they did to him, the only thing that made him agree to stay was the thought of making things right this time. That he could have a second chance with Clint. He would tell him this time. Now he would make sure that Clint knew, and understood Coulson’s reasons for not acting on it earlier.

But in the end, the only thing that stayed in his mind was the memory of a peaceful and relaxing vacation in Tahiti. Even though… peaceful was probably not the right word to describe it.

Tahiti was a magical place.


	2. Never say never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, here's the new chapter! Enjoy <3

Clint hated debriefings, they were boring, unnecessary und way too long. Especially because Steve seemed to be keen on discussing every single detail of their mission. But hey, they were alive and kicking AND they had won. Honestly, Clint thought, debriefings were nothing but Steve yelling at Tony for being too reckless. Why couldn't they just have their domestic quarrels in closed quarters? Nobody cared about Tony’s maneuvers, as long as he made sure to stay alive.

He knew he was being unfair, but seeing Steve ranting on about his (living) almost-boyfriend made Clint’s teeth grit. They should be fucking grateful for what they had, other people weren't that lucky. Clint wasn't that fucking lucky.   
So maybe it was because Coulson’s death was less than two months ago, or because everybody seemed to have forgotten about him, the great Agent Coulson, after the battle of New York (everybody but Clint and Natasha), but something made him get up with an icy glare and storm out of the room. He was so sick of them. Why was he even on that team? They didn't really know him and Clint gave his best not to tell them anything about himself, why on earth did they even trust him? Not even Clint could trust himself anymore. So how could they? 

He knew now what it felt like, losing every bit of control, not only of your body, but your brain as well, his thoughts, his mind… he still felt compromised, haunted. 

He still had horrible nightmares of all those baby agents he killed. Some of them he remembered, they used to be Coulson’s responsibility.   
Once upon a time, Clint would just go to the shooting ranch to see Coulson bitching at the kids, knowing perfectly well how much he actually cared about them. He liked to remember his own first few years at SHIELD after his recruitment, and Coulson had still been every bit the badass that had trained Clint back in the day. What would he give now to be back in that time? Himself being nothing more than an annoying kid with a big mouth, standing in front of that Agent, who couldn't be more than a few years older than him, trying to look the part with suits and a deadly glare.

Now that Coulson was gone… it was hard to explain. Clint wasn't the kind of guy who searched for the meaning of life or anything, but now that his handler and friend had been ripped away from him, he felt like he lost it, the thing that saved him from indifference. As a sniper it was easy to forget you still had human emotions, it was so easy to give in to the beautiful world of just not caring anymore. But Coulson had been his anchor, the one he could safely return to after a mission. And these moments of blissfulness, those short intermissions in his shitty life had made his existence bearable. No, not only bearable but worth living. 

Now, Clint was disgusted by the overwhelming hope Coulson had given him, how much he had relied on him. He should have fucking known better, it was one of the first lessons you learn at SHIELD, don't give your 100%. Don't let a person become everything to you, especially not another Agent. Shit, even Coulson had told him so, that bastard. Coulson must have known something, he must have known how much he had meant to Clint.  
But fuck, Clint had loved him and he had been a fucking idiot. Thinking that a story like theirs could have a happy ending.   
But back then, when Coulson had still been alive, Clint would sometimes let himself think about it, how it would be if they made it. A life for them together, maybe not even as SHIELD employees, not as Hawkeye and Agent Coulson but as Clint and Phil.

Of course, theoretically, Clint knew that was bullshit, but it was a nice daydream he often returned to, when an OP was just too much to handle, or when he was just bored.  
Yeah, obviously Clint knew they didn't stand a chance, because the Avengers (as new as they were) were an extremely important duty and there were only so many episodes of Super Nanny Coulson could watch without checking on his job. 

But now, Clint hated every second of his fucking delusional daydream, he felt like he had used Coulson, like he had mistreated this person, somehow violated him. Clint hated himself for thinking he deserved anything from Coulson, he could be fucking happy that man had let him be his friend, a friend who never turned his back on the mess Clint’s life was. 

He was angry because he let himself think that was something he deserved, because he even thrust his own idiocy on Coulson. He had tried to ask that man out. More than once, even though Coulson had obviously not been interested in anything more than a friendly relationship.

And now, Clint had killed him. The only man he had ever truly, wholly loved. Natasha told him it wasn't him. Loki had stabbed him in the back and there was nothing Clint could have done. But mind control was not a suitable excuse, not good enough. Years of loyalty and friendship and it took nothing but a crazy norse god to make him forget about that.

 

„Hey“, Clint looked up at the familiar voice. Natasha joined him on the floor and looked at him with pity in her eyes, she never used to look at him like that, like he was someone she should have pity on, it was sickening.

„Are you alright?“, she looked so earnest, but Clint really didn't feel like talking.  
„Sure, why not?“, he lied.  
„I know that look on you. You feel guilty, you were hurt and I know Steve and Tony are not making it better with their new found romance, but you need to remember they're not doing this to torture you“, and because Clint was an asshole who needed attention like a toddler he answered in the worst possible way:  
 „Why not? Hell, they fucking should. Someone should finally tell me I fucked up!“, he got louder at the end of the sentence and he knew he was behaving like a dick but he just didn't know how to handle the whole situation. Coulson always knew how to tell Clint off, how to put him back in his place. He needed someone to yell at him, not treat him like some breakable doll. He wanted someone to scream at him, he wanted to be handled. But nobody did, so Clint just kept behaving like an obnoxious child. He knew his coping methods weren't the healthiest, but fuck, his best friend just died and he was entitled to fuck everyone off.

NO shit fuck this was his OWN FUCKING FAULT and he should not let everyone pay for his own fucking weakness. His team didn't deserve this, but he still somehow couldn't bring himself to care enough to stop. He was hurt and underneath the burning rage that was eating him up from the inside, he felt tired, defeated.

„I just don’t know what to do Tasha“, he knew his emotions were audible in his voice and for the first time since Coulson died he let another person touch him, he allowed Natasha to wrap her arms around his shoulders and just hold him. God he wanted to cry, he knew she wouldn't tell anybody. She wouldn't judge him and she would probably be weirdly proud of him, but he couldn’t.

„If I start I don’t know if I can stop“, he whispered, and because Natasha was the best bro in the whole fucking world, she understood immediately what he was talking about.

„I know you probably don’t want to hear that, but he wouldn't want you to behave like that. He’d want you to give everything you have left in you to the Avengers Initiative“, there was a beat of silence in which Natasha calculated how appropriate a joke would be in this situation, „and besides, no matter how much you meant to him, he’d have beaten you up if he had heard how you talked to his childhood idol“, Clint managed to huff a laugh at that and no matter how hard he tried, he could feel the wetness in his own eyes. 

„Can you imagine him geeking out in front of Steve? Because that’s all I think about whenever I see him, how much Coulson would have loved this. Sometimes, when Steve says something particularly patriotic or Captain America like, the first thing that comes to my mind is to tell Coulson about it, because I know how much he always loved the stories“, the first sob escaped Clint’s lips, 

„and then I already have my phone in my hand, all ready to text him,“, Clint really tried to say the next word without making the dread he was feeling evident in his voice „when I remember he’s… gone and he’ll never check his messages again. I know his phone will make this horribly annoying sound that always comes when he gets a text, I swear to god he only decided on this ringtone because he knew how much I hated it. And I know his phone is fully charged in some fucking SHIELD facility, and it would go off and nobody would ever hear it, and my message would be there“, the next words that were coming from Clint’s mouth were so broken and so full of pain, that they were barely understandable „but he’ll never, ever receive it. It will be there, but he’ll never laugh at the text and he will never, never, never answer me again“

Clint knew he sounded like a fucking teenager, but it was ripping him apart and he just needed to get the words out. Even though Natasha could probably not understand him, because for the first time, for the first time since Barney died, he let himself cry.   
And no, he didn't fucking hold back, because he felt like his chest might burst with pain if he did. His heart was cramping, his chest was on fire and he felt dizzy from all the food he had refused to eat. 

But Phil, oh Phil… Phil’s eyes that crinkled whenever he smiled, Phil’s always wry grin that made him look like a mischievous schoolboy… and Clint would never never never see it again. The thought of Coulson being part of his past was maddening, insufferable. He felt like throwing up, because right now he was having one of those episodes in which he actually understood, in which he saw in all clarity his dull, meaningless future stretch in front of him. Usually he wasn't able to grasp the concept of never seeing Phil again, but right now he knew it, he felt it. All the way, straight to his soul, something he didn’t even know he had until it was ripped apart. 

Because clearly, even though they were warned to never commit oneself solely to one person, Clint’s heart, mind, body and soul were all Phil’s. And now that he was gone, he felt like he had lost all this too and a life without purpose was a waste.

„So what are you planning to do now?“, he could hear that Natasha was crying too. Strong, independent Natasha was crying with him.  
„I feel like there’s nothing more to life now, without him I mean“, by the way he could feel Natasha’s grip on him tightening he realized what he just had said.  
„I’m not suicidal, not the way you think. Not because I feel like giving up, but because I think if there’s a chance, I mean any chance, that I could be with him in the end, it would be worth it, you know?“

Natasha was forcing his head up to meet her red rimmed eyes, „Please, please Clint“, she whispered with a shaking voice „never say something like this again“.  
And Clint didn't know how to tell her, how to tell her that he wasn't joking around, that he was so consumed by his grief that he thought a bullet in his head could make him whole again. He knew how selfish it was to think about ending his own life and leaving Natasha alone. She was probably the only reason he hadn't put an end to his pointless existence. He knew he couldn't leave her, that even though Nat was the strongest person he knew, he couldn't go and leave her to cope on her own. But god, if there just was any sort of cure for his bleeding heart.

„We gotta do something Clint. I can’t let you go on like that“, Natasha whispered.  
„I’ll find something to help you with, a SHIELD psychiatrist or just some vacation, you need to get away from here. I’ll take care of this, alright? We’ll find a solution.“

Clint wouldn't take her up on it, he couldn’t. Not because he was being stubborn, but because he’d never be able to talk about his feelings to a stranger. But for her he might just go, just to please her, so that she wouldn't be wo worried anymore.  
But honestly, he just felt like sleeping. Like sleeping and never getting up again. 

Not suicide, just some sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reviews are always welcome!!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction I published, so Reviews are always welcome :)


End file.
